Without
by fanficaholic1377
Summary: Hermione has been living without Harry for a little over a year now. To all but a few he is thought dead. At the beginning Hermione finds comfort in an old friend, but soon learns that Harry is more alive then she thinks.
1. The Intruder

Without  
  
By: Fanficaholic1377  
  
Summary: Hermione has been living without Harry for a little over a year now. To all but a few he is thought dead. At the beginning Hermione finds comfort in an old friend, but soon learns that Harry is more alive then she thinks. This is the story of how that came to be.   
And why they are meant to be.  
  
E-mail: Cool6848@cs.com  
  
It was a cold, damp night with the rain drizzling down. Whistles of wind could be heard every time it passed an unsuspecting object. There was no glow from the moon on this night, being shrouded by the thick coulds, but there were still eerie shadows cast all over the empty, lifeless streets. Hermione shivered involuntarily as she heard the wind sing its high pitched, frightening song. It was late fall, when most of the leaves had turned brown and floated downwards, sticking to the wet ground. It always rained in England no matter what the season, and tonight Hermione wasn't very happy about it. It was one of those nights when the crackling fire didn't give off any warmth what so ever. One of those dreary nights where you just wanted to curl up in bed and wait until the morning, when hopefully, there would be light again. Hermione sighed.  
  
Suddenly, she heard a soft scraping noise within her home, and she froze. Just the trees outside, scraping against the house, she thought. Another soft scrape, it seemed closer this time. Hermione still sat rigid as she saw a shadow move across the doorway. She reached for her wand, but just found the smooth surface of the wooden table top. She swore she had left it there. Hermione hesitantly stood up and turned the light switch, no power. Damn weather, Hermione thought irritably, still frightened.  
  
"Who... who's there?" She asked into the darkness.  
  
No answer. Everything was quiet. For that moment there was silence, the rain stopped dead in midair, the wind held it's howling, and whoever was in her house stood still.  
  
Hermione sighed in relief. It must have just been her cat roaming around. But she was proved wrong when she heard a whisper coming from the narrow hallway beyond her doorway. She felt goose bumps forming all over her body.   
  
"Hermione..." The unknown voice whispered again.  
  
Hermione walked out and faced towards the kitchen. She felt a hand on her back and warm breath down her neck. She stood still.  
  
"I need you so much." It whispered silently.  
  
"I've needed you for as long as I can remember, but I need you now more than ever."  
  
Hermione thought of fighting against this nameless person, but she decided against it. This voice sounded so desperate, so weak, so... alone.  
  
"When all seems lost and gone Hermione, just remember, I'm still here."  
  
And the weight on her shoulder was lifted and her neck felt ice cold not having the warm breath there anymore. Hermione turned around quickly but saw nothing, just the same blackness of night.  
Hermione lay on her back in bed, still wide awake. Her wand, that she had discovered on the kitchen table, was resting safely under her old, worn out pillow. She even feel the hardness of the wood through her pillow if she moved a certain way. She was thinking about who had intruded into her house.   
  
The voice sounded so desperate, she thought sadly, and... so, so familiar. She couldn't get the idea out of her head that it was some one she knows, or knew. Could it have been him? She thought hopefully. But she quickly shook that thought from her mind. She knew he was gone. For a little over a year now. Hermione felt the tears start to well up in her eyes, they always had, and still do at the very thought of him. She had been there when he fell dead to the ground. She remembered running over to him and seeing his lifeless face, and his once brilliant emerald eyes now only dark, empty pools. She sat up slowly as the tears fell more rapidly.  
  
She remembered how difficult it was for her and Ron, not having Harry there anymore. It was difficult for the entire world, yes, having their hero fall immediately after his greatest triumph, but the world knew him as the Boy-Who-Lived. To her and Ron he was Harry. Their best friend.  
  
Hermione stood out of her bed and wiped at her eyes. She could feel wetness all over her face and her lips were dry and salty. She slipped on her violet bathrobe and apparated out of her house to the apartment building just next door. She landed in the spacious apartment of none other than Ron Weasley. Hermione crept slowly towards his bedroom and opened the door a crack. She peeked in and saw Ron's bed coverings in a huge mound around his tall body. As she walked over to his bed she heard him snoring lightly. She stepped over him and shook him awake. No use.   
  
"Ron!" Hermione said a little too loud.  
  
Ron immediately jumped out of his bed looking panic stricken.  
  
"What, What Hermione?! What's wrong?"  
  
Hermione stepped back a little now regretting she had even come. But she needed to talk to some one. Some one who would understand her feelings. And Ron was the only one who could do that completely.  
  
"Hermione, why did you wake me up? It's 3 in the..." He trailed off seeing that her eyes were rather red and bloodshot, and she looked very downcast.  
  
"I'm sorry Hermione, you just startled me. Here let's go into the living room, I'll make us some tea."  
  
Hermione sunk into the soft living room couch and watched as Ron swiftly and expertly make them both some tea. Ron turned out to be a lot like his mother, when it came to the cooking of course. After graduating from Hogwarts Ron had wanted to become a professional Quidditch player, he was actually signed with the Chuddley Cannons for a couple years, but after Harry's death he decided to dedicate himself to becoming an auror. Even though Voldemort was gone, there was still work to be done in gathering up any remaining dark forces and eliminating them. On Ron's off time he coached his girlfriend's six year old son's Quidditch team.   
  
Ron gently handed Hermione a cup of tea. She could feel the warmness of the liquid penetrating through the mug. Ron draped a green velvet blanket over her and covered himself in the knitted blanket Ron had had for as long as she could remember.  
  
"So, Hermione, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?" Ron asked trying to hide the tiredness in his voice.  
  
Hermione just sighed and set her mug down on the wooden table in front of her.  
  
"Some one was in my house."  
  
Ron's eyes opened wide and he set his mug down on the table as well.  
  
"Did they hurt you? Did they touch you? Do you know who it was? Did you hex them?" Ron said this all amazingly fast.  
  
Ron always acted like an over protective brother towards Hermione, she didn't really mind it, it was nice knowing some one cares for you and wants to watch over you, but sometimes it just became annoying.  
  
"No, no they didn't hurt me, and they didn't touch me in the way you're thinking. No, I didn't hex them," Ron looked surprised at this, "I left my wand in the kitchen. I'm not sure who it was, but the voice sounded so familiar, maybe it was... maybe it was him." Hermione ended quietly.  
  
Ron gave Hermione a look. He knew how she missed him desperately, he did too, but Hermione wouldn't get over the fact that he was gone, and never coming back. She wouldn't go on with her life and she made herself miserable without even knowing it.  
  
"Hermione... you know he's not here anymore." Ron said feeling even more tired than he had been before.  
  
"I'm well aware of that Ron, but he- he could come back, he really could." Hermione said, with her gaze no where inparticular.   
  
Ron moved over towards her and put a smooth hand on her face.  
  
"Hermione, he's not coming back. He's dead. You saw him die, I did, too. Sure, I miss him, and sometimes it hurts, but you have to move on. I'm not saying you have to forget, but just realize that he isn't with us anymore. He would have wanted you to move on, he would have wanted you to live a happy life and not having his memory burden you for as long as you live." Ron's words were sincere and his eyes told her so.  
  
"But- but." Hermione couldn't think of anything to say or object to.  
  
"Oh, Ron, it's just I still love him so much." She cried as she buried her head deep into his shoulder.  
  
"I know you do Hermione, and I miss him like hell, but you've got to move on. I don't want you to be like this the rest of your life."  
  
"I kn- know Ron, it's just going to take a while." She sobbed.  
  
Ron just pat her hair lightly until her tears had calmed.  
  
"Do you want to stay the night?" On- on the couch I mean." Ron said, blushing.  
  
"But Ron, wouldn't it be much more fun if I slept in bed with you?" She smirked.  
  
Ron just blushed deeper to match his flaming red hair that was still as red as the day he was born.  
  
"Shut up, Hermione." He got up yawning and headed towards the wall closet to get Hermione a pillow.  
  
"Love you, too Ron." She called.  
  
"Yea, yea, goodnight." He said as he tossed her a large fluffy pillow.  
  
"See you in the morning." Hermione replied back, some what cheered up.  
  
Unknown to either of the friends a silent pair of sparkling green eyes had been watching the two since the moment Hermione arrived. And with a swish of his long tattered cloak, he was off, off into the darkness from which he had come. 


	2. An Odd Reaction

Without - Chapter 2  
  
E-mail: cool6848@cs.com  
  
Hermione woke up the next morning to see the glow of the sun shining through her eyelids. She rolled over on the couch and scrunched her eyes tightly. She didn't feel like getting up, she still felt tired from the previous night.  
  
"Rise and shine!" Ron called from the kitchen where sweet smells of breakfast cooking were drifting around the entire room.  
  
Hermione groaned loudly and exhaustedly sat up.  
  
Ron chuckled as he saw Hermione. Her hair was all over the place and in knots (her hair had become quite tame over the years) and her bathrobe was half on her body and half hanging off.  
  
"What... what's so funny?" Hermione asked, confused.  
  
"Oh, nothing." Ron said innocently.  
  
Hermione shrugged her shoulders and walked over to the kitchen that was up a couple of steps and it was separated from the living room by a banister. Hermione plopped down onto a kitchen chair just as Ron set breakfast (a pile of scrambled eggs, two pieces of buttered wheat toast, and a large glass of orange juice.) Hermione took a huge whiff of the pleasant smell and grinned.   
  
"Smells delicious." She commented.  
  
Ron laughed, "Well, I'm glad you think so, but how about eating some?"  
  
"No, Ron, I think I'll just look at it all day." Hermione said sarcastically.  
  
"Fine, go ahead and waste your day staring at scrambled eggs." Ron grinned.  
  
After a few moments of silent chewing Hermione spoke up.  
  
"So, Ron, what are you up to today? Do you have to go to work?"  
  
"Yea, unfortunately." Ron replied sourly. "Later tonight, I have some reports I have to write and file. Maybe I won't go."  
  
At his words Hermione gave him a glare.  
  
"Now, Ron, you know you have to get it done."  
  
"Yea, yea, I know I have to get it done, but that still doesn't make me want to go any more."  
  
Hermione just shook her head trying to suppress a grin. Ever since their first year at Hogwarts Ron had been neglecting his work, it was amusing that he still did it now, as a twenty-four year old. Amusing, but definitely not surprising.  
  
"What about yourself?" Ron said taking another helping of eggs and toast from the large platter in the center of the table. (He still had the same appetite, too.)  
  
"I don't know, I'm off work today. I'll probably just do some research on a written incantation we discovered in some chest up in the attic at the office." Hermione worked with a small group of people who checked new spells that had just been created by the Charm and Incantaion Insight Team over at the Ministry of Magic. If a spell was unsafe or defective, they would make a file on it, keep a copy and send one back to the Ministry, telling them what went wrong. The Misnistry would either try to fix it, or just discard of it. Every now and then the group would climb up to the attic and take a look at the old, dusty files that had been there for centuries. Hermione had taken this job a little less than a year ago, and quickly became the leader or the small but successful (not to mention well paid) group. Which, quite frankly, didn't surprise anyone. Not many people know where the place is located, Hermione works in secrecy. This is because of those ancient curses and hexes stored away in the attic, some of them are deadly and harmful. If they fell into the wrong hands, chaos would ensue.  
  
"You're not working tomorrow are you?" Ron asked curiously.  
  
"Actually, yes, I am. Why?"  
  
"Hermione, what do we do every Sunday?"  
  
"Well, I'm not very sure what you do every Sunday, but, let's see, I wake up, have breakfast..."  
  
"Hermione for some one so smart sometimes you can be dense. Or just to literate. What do we do after all that stuff?"  
  
"We, well, we sleep?" Hermione asked blankly.  
  
Ron sighed. "No Hermione we go and have dinner at my parents house! You're definitely not a morning person, or maybe you're just sick. Are you feeling all right?"  
  
"Oh! How could I have forgotten? And no, I'm not sick." Hermione said irritated and swatting Ron's hand away from her forehead. "I'm definitely 'not' sick."  
  
"All right, all right. But will you be able to come tomorrow? You can't miss it, I won't let you." Ron said as he brought his and Hermione's empty plates over to the sink.  
  
"Yes, Ron I'll be able to come, calm down! I always come."  
  
"Yea, well, you get wrapped up in your work a lot."  
  
"I can't help it, you know me Ron." She smiled.  
  
"I should get going now, besides, aren't you meeting Laura today?"  
  
Ron's hand shot up to his forehead and his mouth hung open.  
  
"I totally forgot!" He glanced quickly at his watch as he scurried down the hall towards his bedroom.  
  
"Ahhh! I'm going to be late! I have to meet her in five minutes!"  
  
Calm down Ron! You'll make it! Thanks for letting me stay the night!" Hermione called down the hall.  
  
"No problem, Hermione! So you're coming tomorrow right!?" Ron stuck his head out the door, Hermione could hear his shower running.  
  
"Yes, I'll be there!" And with that Hermione apparated back to her home.  
Hermione apparated onto the short brick pathway that led up to her front steps. The bricks on the edges of the path were crumbling and weeds were growing in beetween the cracks along the entire path. She looked up at the home she had lived in since she was four, only now she lived in it alone. During her sixth year at Hogwarts her parents had been victims of one of Voldemorts many Muggle raids. Her eyes stung at the memory of it all, getting the sad, sad letter telling her that her parents were dead, the memory of how hard it was going on day to day at school, and how she had suffered so much pain. There was little light during that time, the only light coming from her closest friends, especially Harry. He was there for her throughout the entire time, holding her, giving her a shoulder to cry on, and telling her everything would be ok.  
  
She broke out of her trance and took a closer look at the house. Her house. The white paint was chipped in some places and really needed a fresh new coat of paint. The red shutters hanging on either side of each front window were cracked and broken. The shrubs in the front of her house, once neatly trimmed and colorful, were now over-grown and dull. She sighed sadly at herselff for letting her home do this poorly. What would her parents think of her for keeping the house in this bad a condition? They would probably be dissapionted.  
  
Hermione decided she would do some serious house cleaning today. She would open all the windows and let the fresh smell of dew enter her house, and since it was suprisingly warm for mid-November. She walked up the worn brick-way into the front foyer of her home and opened the closet to gather together her cleaning supplies. Hermione figured she would work her way from upstairs to downstairs, but before she did any of that she would have to change out of her pajamas.  
  
She threw on a pair of long cotton pants and an old white shirt with sleeves that came down to her elbows. She tied a red bandana to keep her long, wavy hair out of her face. She started with the hallway, vacuming the hard maple-wood floors and ridding the corners of cobwebs or anything else that had crept into the corners. She moved to her tiny library next. She looked around the dim room, a sliver of light made its way into the room and with that light Hermione could see dust floating around. She gazed at the walls lined with books and the comfy love seat that sat in the middle of the room. Hermione groaned inwardly, she knew this was going to take some work. Maybe she could just use her wand...? No, that's not the way to get everything done, she couldn't let herself become lazy.  
  
She started with taking each book off the shelf one at a time, dusting off each book. After she had finished three shelves she moped into her room and plopped onto her bed. A piece of hair that had escaped her bandana fell in her face and she blew it away. Maybe some music would cheer her up, she hadn't listened to the radio in forever. She slowly sat up and walked over to her closet to get her radio. When she took it out dust blew all around her face causing her to sneeze loudly.  
  
"Ow... that hurt." She complained to no one.  
  
She carried her heavy radio into her library and set it down on the floor nect to the electrical outlet. She dusted off the front of it with her hand and flipped the switch. Instantly, loud music started to blast out of the speakers and Hermione drew back in shock and covered her ears. She reached out and turned the volume down to a pitch she could stand. She changed the radio stations until she heard a familiar song. She hummed the song and slowly started to sing as the words came back to her. Her mother had always used to love this song, and whenever Hermione came home for the summer it would be blasting all over the house. It was a soft rock song, but it still had a fast pace with smooth gutair playing and booming drums.  
  
Hermione resumed cleaning the room. Throughout her time in cleaning the library she would stop and change the station every now and then, singing to any song she knew, all the time keeping the music loud. When she had finally finished thouroghly cleaning that room she turned off the radio and decided to take a break.   
  
As she walked down the stairs she heard that back door creak open. She froze. What if it was whoever was in her house last night? What if it was a new intruder. She quietly snuck down the remaining stairs and pressed herself up against the wall that separated her front foyer from her kitchen. She could hear who ever it was walking around her kitchen, coming closer to where she was hidden. Five steps away; she gripped her wand tightly. Only three steps now; time seemed to be going in slow motion. Hermione watched quietly as a tall figure entered the foyer where she was tightly pressed up against the wall.  
  
"Don't move or I'll hex you so bad you won't remember what happen, literally!" Hermione startled the intruder. Whoever this man was (Hermione could tell it was a man by his build) jumped off his feet and turned around. But it wasn't an intruder at all, it was just a shocked looking Sirius.  
  
"Jeez, Hermione, what did you do that for?! You almost caused me an early death!" Sirius spoke angrily.  
  
Hermione covered her open mouth with her hand and blushed.  
  
"Oh, Sirius, I'm so sorry... But you shouldn't just enter my house like that! 'You' nearly caused 'me' an early death." Hermione said, forgetting about her apology.  
  
"I tried ringing that... the door buzzer thing..."  
  
"You could have knocked, and it's called a doorbell." Hermione said cutting him off.  
  
"If you would let me finish... I tried knocking, and I didn't go home because I heard music coming from inside. Then I tried apparating in, but for some reason I couldn't. Why is that?" Sirius asked curiously, following Hermione into the kitchen from which he had just come.  
  
"You couldn't apparate because I set up protective wards around my property. No one can de-activate them except myself because it's my own spell." Hermione said putting her elbows on the counter and placing her head in her hands, while Sirius sat at a barstool across from her.  
  
"Clever, but why did you put up the wards now? You never had them before."  
  
Hermione hesitated. She wasn't sure if she should tell Sirius. He had become almost like a second dad to Hermione, and he was just like Ron when it came to her safety, only worse, much worse. Like one time Hermione had told him she would meet him for lunch, but she was running late due to her work. Sirius had becom every worried and started to panic going around and gathering every one who knew Hermione to go and look for her. Eventually, the search party ended up at work where Hermione had been the entire time. From then on, Hermione was never late to meet with Sirius again. (Even if Hermione was 'never' late in the first place.)  
  
"Well..." Hermione bit her lip.  
  
"What? What happened?" Sirius asked, concerned.  
  
"There, there was some one in my house last night, an intruder."  
  
Sirius choked a little and his eyes opened considerably wider.  
  
"But-"  
  
"Did you see who it was?" Sirius asked with urgency in his voice.  
  
"No, I didn't but I t-"  
  
"I've got to go Hermione, I've just remembered something very important over at the school that I have to get done. I'll see you soon." Sirius spoke as he rushed out the front door and apparated away.  
  
I wonder what that was all about, Hermione thought.  
  
A/N- Well, there it is, the next chapter! I hope you all like it. Thanks to all who reviewed, and I hope you continue reviewing. If you have any suggestions, questions, comments, or anything at all, feel free to ask!  
  
Disclaimer- I don't own anything. 


	3. The Ministry

Without - Chapter 3  
  
E-mail: Cool6848@cs.com  
______________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Sirius startled several students as he swung open the large oak doors of Hogwarts, and rushed by them all without a word. He sped down the halls of Hogwarts, turning sharp corners, passing students, ghosts, teachers, suits of armor, and an assortment on paintings. All the while he knew where his destination was; Dumbledore's office. When Sirius entered he paid no notice the old wizard who was sitting behind his desk, nor to the mischievous blue eyes that were now following his every move. Sirius walked strait up to a large portrait of an eagle and swung it open, only to reveal a brick wall. Sirius then tapped a brick that had an indent in it and mumbled a few incoherent words. Magically, an opening appeared in the shape of an arched doorway. Beyond that doorway was a large room; a replica of the Gryffindoor common room, only this one had bookshelves, and one set of stairs leading to a single door. Sirius rushed into the room and up the stairs and opened the door without a single knock. (By now Dumbledore was hot on his trail.)  
  
"Harry! Were you in her house last night?!" Sirius yelled angrily to a young man sleeping lazily under a huge lump of sheets. The man jerked awake suddenly and scrambled out of bed. His mangled raven hair hung down in his face and his green eyes shone with worry behind the same type of glasses he had always worn. He had a strong build, with broad shoulders, and was rather tall, at six one.  
  
"Wha? What, what's wrong?!"  
  
"I said... were you in her house last night?" Sirius spoke more quietly now, but the anger was still apparent in his voice.  
  
"Who's her?" The man asked trying to play dumb.  
  
"Don't play dumb with me Harry! You damn well know..."  
  
"Now, now Sirius, calm down. There's no need to yell at the boy." Dumbledore reasoned.  
  
Sirius sighed and looked Harry in the eye.  
  
"Were you at Hermione's house last night?"  
  
Harry hesitated a moment and nodded solemnly, looking downward. At his reply Sirius sighed again and leaned against the tall bed post of Harry's bed.  
  
"Harry, I thought we talked about this, you can't be seen." Sirius finally spoke.  
  
"I know... it's just, I needed to see her. It's been so long, and it's so hard living like this , without her." Harry said sadly. It had been a little over a year now, Harry thought, since he had to go into hiding, away from anyone, away from it all. He didn't 'have' to go, not if he wanted the entire world to be in ashes and have the ones dearest to him suffer.  
  
"I understand that Harry, but you can't just do that. Without telling us. Well, you shouldn't do that at all." Sirius said.  
  
"Now Sirius I agree that Harry should have told one of us, but we can't keep him in hiding forever, what kind of life would that be?" With no response from either of the two, he continued. "See, it wouldn't be a life."  
  
"If only... I can find a way, a way to be able to go out in the world some how, or just be able to be with Hermione and Ron again. If I do find a way, would you both let me?" Harry asked determinedly, he just couldn't stay away anymore. It had been too long.  
  
"Harry if you did find a way... could we stop you?" Dumbledore smiled as his eyes twinkled.  
  
"No, probably not."  
  
"That's me boy." Sirius said patting Harry on the back. "You're just like your dad was, when he wanted something, or some one," Sirius winked, "he would do anything to get it, and no one could stop him. But, never, and I repeat 'never' do that again without telling us. We didn't know what happened to you yesterday. You were just gone."  
  
"All right, all right, I'm sorry, it won't happen again." Harry spoke like he had said that many times before.  
  
"Well, not that that's settled, I suggest you get ready Harry, there's work to be done." Dumbledore said as he left the room.  
  
"She really misses you Harry."  
  
"Yea, well, I'm dead to her. But did she tell you that?"  
  
"No, but I can see it, she's just not herself without you." With that, Sirius left, leaving Harry alone, standing in the middle of his room, thinking about how he was going to find a way to get to Hermione, to be able to talk to her again.   
  
This was going to take a while.  
Harry made his way down the dark, dim dungeons hallway, the walls lined with blazing torches. He had gotten used to the sickening smell of the dungeons by now, but every now and then the smell would get to him and he's have to bury his face within his shirt to block the smell. Harry turned a familiar corner and walked down a spiraling set of rot- iron steps. He came to a room with nothing in it at all. Just a low ceiling and gray stone walls. He walked to the center of the room, crouched down to the floor and tapped his wand three times on a stone that had a red marking on it. The stone melted away along with the other stones surrounding it. Below the opening was another set of long spiraling stairs, leading lower and lower beneath the Hogwarts castle. Harry shivered as he felt a draft of air come from below.  
  
He made his way down the stairs and entered a room that didn't look like it belonged there. The floor was covered with a rich hard wood, and the walls were painted a deep burgundy. in the center of the room were long tables each set up to make a "U" shape. Padded chairs lined the table in various places. Harry passed this table and opened a door leading to a long hallway cluttered with hundreds upon hundreds of doors, each with a number, a name, or anything else you could think of.  
  
The Ministry of Magic. The Ministry had always been there, always under their noses. Harry never imagined that the Ministry of Magic could possibly be hidden away, deep under Hogwarts. If he could tell Hermione he was sure that she would have a field day about this, Ron even. People who worked at the Ministry were never to tell any one of it's location, family, friends, nobody. That's why Ron would be as surprised as he was when he found out.  
  
Harry turned the knob of a door that had the number 713 in gold lettering. Inside Sirius, Dumbledore, and a few other formal looking people were waiting for him around a small round table.  
  
"Good afternoon, Harry." Dumledore said. "We have some news from Lincoln."  
  
"Good news, I hope." Harry said hopefully as he sat down even though he new it wasn't good news. Every time Antione Lincoln had news, it wasn't good. Informative, but definitely not good.  
  
"You could say that, but I wouldn't." Antione Lincoln replied with a deep voice. He was a tall, bulky man with long dark brown hair and dark deep- set eyes. Anyone would say that he was the perfect man for his job, a spy. He was one of the very few that actually made contact with the remains of the inner circle of the dark side.  
  
"They've had a break-through, and the numbers of wizards and witches who have stayed loyal, or turned dark are growing. They have reached an all time high and if my sources are correct, with they most likely are, the attack could be any week now."  
  
"That certainly isn't good news. How have we been progressing?" Harry said seriously, his eyes darkening.  
  
"It's been slow work, but we're managing. The team and I have spoke recently, and... well we have made a proposition." The short woman to Sirius' left spoke. Her name was Lucille Belrose. She was head of the Ministry's Charm and Incantation Insight Team.  
  
"And what might that be?" Sirius asked.  
  
"Well..." Lucille hesitated. "Since it has been slow and all, and because of the recent information that was just brought to my attention, we could use a little more help. We hear there is an expert over at Spell Reinforcement, and we could desperately use their help." She spoke quietly.  
  
Harry thought about this, and could see that everyone else was as well. He had heard about the difficulties the group had been having, due to the small number of people they had working on this essential project. They could use some help, maybe he could call help for two people. Even though he knew the risks of exposing even more people to this situation. The Ministry didn't even know of this plan, or that he was even still alive. Every time Harry was in the Ministry and Hogwarts Grounds only, he could be seen by a select few, with the help on the incantation team of course.  
  
"I don't see why not." Harry spoke into the silence.  
  
"Harry, you know or the consequences that could occur if we chose some one untrustworthy." Sirius said seriously.  
  
"Yes, I'm well aware of that but the team is in need, if we don't get all these spells created and mastered, we are not going to be very well off."  
  
"I have to agree with Harry, Sirius, the team could always use some expert help." Dumbledore reasoned.  
  
"I wasn't disagreeing with Harry, I was just forewarning."  
  
"What is this expert's name?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"I'm not sure, but I think it's Helen or Mary... Mary Graja or something. I'll look into it right away, and inform you immediately." Lucille said.  
  
"Well then, you are all dismissed, except you Harry, I need to have a word with you." Dumledore said. Harry thought he sounded tired. Dumbledore was getting older, it had been noticeable for years now. Harry just didn't know what he was going to do if Dumbledore passed away. He had taught Harry so much, and he was forever grateful.  
  
Once everyone had exited the room Dumbledore sighed and turned towards Harry who was sitting across from him.  
  
"What do you think about this Harry?"  
  
"What... what do you mean?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled and asked again. "I mean, what do you think about the progression of the dark forces?"  
  
"I think... well what I didn't think that they were this far along. How they are moving so fast is beyond me. If only Lincoln could get closer, find out more information."  
  
"Life is full of surprises Harry, you should just be prepared for the worst. What good would it do us if Lincoln was closer to the inner circle? It would only fill us with more dread and doubts. We just have to be prepared." Dumbledore said wisely.  
  
"I guess you're right. We just have to be prepared." Dumbledore was always right, Harry thought. Always wise and logic, but sometimes that man could confuse even the brightest of people. Hermione even... Harry sighed sadly.  
  
"Try to cheer up some Harry, as hard as that may seem. Things won't always stay this way. Well, I best be off, I have a school to attend to." Dumbledore smirked.  
  
"But it's the weekend." Harry added.  
  
"Ah, yes, but I do believe there's a Quidditch match today. Gryffindoor versus Slytherin. Should be an interesting match. Would you like to come?"  
  
"It's Quidditch you're talking about here. Me and Quidditch. Of course I'd like to come!" Harry said cheerily. Even though he was no longer a child, he still acted like one. Not as much as he used to, but it was still rather frequent.  
  
The two wizards left the room, shutting and locking the door, looking forward to watch a great game of Quidditch.  
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A/N- So, there it is, chapter 3!! Hope you all liked it! And thanks very much for reviewing, make sure to keep reviewing, too! Your comments mean a lot to me. 


	4. A Letter

Without - Chapter 4  
  
E-mail: Cool6848@cs.com  
  
"I have no time to finish this, no time at all!"  
  
"Time is no object. Speaking of time, what time *is* it?"  
  
"Eighty 'o' clock."  
  
"There's no such thing."  
  
"I thought you said time was no object?"  
  
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After Sirius had left, Hermione decided to make herself lunch. She hadn't realized how hungry she had become until just now. She didn't feel like having a sandwich, or pasta, that was basically what she had everyday. A sandwich for lunch, and some kind of pasta for dinner. Except when she went to the Weasley's, of course. She opened the door to her small pantry and scanned the shelves for anything new to eat. Her eyes trailed over a bag of cookies, sugar, a box of popcorn, peanut butter, and a variety of other things when she saw a large box of pancake mix. She was never one to have pancakes at any other time other then the mornings, but what the heck? It couldn't hurt.  
  
Hermione gathered together the things she would need to make her pancakes; milk, eggs, butter, etc. Hermione liked to cook the Muggle way, she felt as though there was more satisfaction in doing some things without the help of magic. Ron called her crazy, but she just brushed his words off. Ron was like that; lazy. But, Hermione thought, when he had to get something done, he would.  
  
She watched the milky white batter sizzle lightly on the pan. When she was little she always found the worst part of making pancakes was the waiting. You just had to stand there and watch them cook, smelling the wonderful scent of the delicious pancakes that made your mouth water.  
  
She decided to put away all her ingredients and pour herself a glass of milk. Once the pancakes were all cooked she slipped them onto a plate with a spatula and sat down at her kitchen table to enjoy her little treat. Hermione didn't like to much maple syrup on her pancakes, just a drop or two was fine for her. She remembered her days at Hogwarts when pancakes would be served, and Harry and Ron would comment about how she didn't put enough syrup.  
  
"Hermione! You have to put more maple syrup!" Ron would yell.  
  
"Yea, Hermione, the syrup makes the pancake." Harry would then pour loads of syrup all over his food.  
  
"See, Hermione, we know what we're talking about." Ron would try to prove.  
  
Hermione laughed at the memory. Finally, after weeks of torment, just for one time she gave in and poured so much syrup all over her pancakes that that was all she could taste.  
  
Hermione picked up the container which held the rich looking maple syrup, and poured a little extra on her pancakes. Harry would be proud.  
  
Halfway through eating Hermione heard a knock at her front door. She quickly wiped he mouth with her napkin and hurried to the front door. As she opened it a chilly wind blew in, and Hermione saw one of her best friends, Reana Lockrin.  
  
"Hi, Hermione!" She said cheerily as she stepped into the house. "What are you up to?"  
  
"Oh, hi Reana, I just took a lunch break from cleaning up the house. It was a mess."   
  
"You? Have a messy house? No way."  
  
Hermione laughed and led Reana into the kitchen, where her pancakes were getting cold.  
  
"Even I have my flaws." Hermione said, still laughing.  
  
"Sorry I interrupted your lunch, but this letter came from the Ministry today, it's addressed to you. Just thought I'd drop it off." Reana spoke as she took off her jean jacket and draped in on the back of a chair. Reana worked with Hermione on checking spells and incantations. Reana had joined shortly after Hermione had, and they quickly became good friends. They were kind of opposites, Reana was disorganized and very loud, and liked to have fun. (Not that Hermione didn't) But they both had the same determination, and work ethic. Not to mention a love of reading.  
  
"You didn't have to do that." Hermione said, taking the letter that Reana had handed her.  
  
"Well, I did and there's nothing you can do about it." She smiled. Reana had long, very curly auburn hair. She had a fair complexion, and a few freckles were scattered across her face. She was a little taller than Hermione, but she always seemed taller then she actually was because she always wore heels.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Does this mean I get a raise?" Reana asked jokingly.  
  
"Is that the only reason you brought this to me? Well then, I'll have to rethink this whole friendship thing you have going on..."  
  
"No, I wasn't serious Hermione!" Reana added quickly before Hermione could say anymore. She had a habit of taking things a little too seriously, and some times Hermione couldn't help but joking around with her.  
  
"Calm down, calm down. I was only joking."  
  
Reana glared at Hermione. "I hate when you do that! Taking advantage of me! Maybe *I* should rethink this friendship thing."   
  
Hermione laughed, and soon Reana joined in as well. "You're coming to work tomorrow, right?"  
  
"Yes, but I'm going to have to leave a little early." Hermione replied, taking another bite of her pancake.  
  
"I know, you always leave early on Sundays. Why is that? Where to you go?" She asked curiously.  
  
"I've never told you? Well Ron, of course I've told you about Ron, I go to his family's house for dinner every Sunday. It's kind of a tradition. To see what every one is up to."  
  
"Yes, of course I know Ron, I've met him before. Well, that's nice."  
  
"Yea, it is..." Hermione said. The Weasley dinners sure did brighten her week, but, there was always one thing missing; Harry.  
  
"Are you all right, Hermione?" Reana asked, seeing the sadness in her eyes. She knew how much Harry Potter's death meant to her. Hermione had told her all about her Hogwart's days, with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, and all the adventures they had shared. Reana knew how much it must hurt to not have Harry with her anymore.  
  
"What? Oh, yes I'm fine. Why do you ask?" Hermione forced her mouth into a small smile.  
  
"You just... oh never mind. No reason." Reana looked at her watch. "Sorry Hermione, but I've got to head out, my mum wants to go do some wedding shopping. I don't know why she wants to do this so early. The wedding's not until April!"  
  
"A wedding takes a long time to plan Reana! You've got to pick out the perfect dress, the cake, decorations, a band for the reception..."  
  
"Ok, ok, now you sound like my mother," Reana interrupted.  
  
"If I had a dollar for every time some one said that to me, I'd be rich."  
  
Reana laughed as she said, "Well, it's not a bad thing, you take care of everyone, and that's good."  
  
"Well thank you," Hermione blushed. "How is John, by the way?" She said, changing the subject.  
  
"He's all right, a little stressed out though. Work is getting to him." John, Reana's fiance, was a jounalist working for the Daily Prophet.  
  
"Tell him I said not to worry, he's a great writer, he'll be just fine."   
  
Reana put on her jacket and started walking out of the kitchen, Hermione close behind.  
  
"I will, John always likes to hear what you have to say." She smiled.  
  
"I'm glad he does. I'll see you tomorrow then?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Bright and early." Reana opened the front door and walked down the small path and got into her car. Reana was Muggle born, just like Hermione, so she drove a car when she was with her parents.  
  
Hermione shut the door slowly, and resumed her cleaning.  
  
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A/N- Hope you liked that chapter! Sorry for the delay, if any one is reading this! lol. I'll post again as soon as I can! 


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